


Chance Encounter

by Cerusee



Series: Prompt fics [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Car Troubles, Catatonia, Gen, Lost Days AU, apparently fixit AUs are the only thing I write now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-23 14:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13790061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerusee/pseuds/Cerusee
Summary: Engine troubles in a bad part of Gotham - what a nightmare, Alfred thinks.Until he sees a familiar, impossible face.





	Chance Encounter

Alfred quietly swore. 

There was no one here to hear him, and he might as well have said it at volume, but he had decades now of trying to present a good example for the children. The engine was thoroughly dead, and refused to start.

It wasn’t the nicest part of town. He wasn’t worried about his ability to take care of himself, but taking care of himself was a distraction if he needed to immerse himself in engine repairs.

He could call for engine service, but...it seemed such a waste of time and money to do so when he could fix the bloody thing himself in a fraction of the time.

He put on the flashers, got out of the car, tool kit in hand, and with a sigh, he pulled up the bonnet, and started to work.

“Hey, my man, I can help–”

This came from a man whose face was buried in a hoodie, leaning back against the brick wall next to the Bentley’s parking spot.

“No thank you,” Alfred said.

“I know this kid, though. Real whiz with an engine. He’s cheap. He does good work, hardly charges a thing.”

“I have it in hand,” Alfred called back, absently. Perhaps it was the fuel line…

He’d been immersed in engine repair for twenty, maybe thirty minutes, when he was fairly sure he’d found the problem and fixed it. He was pulling back and preparing to shut the bonnet when he realized there was still someone lingering near the wall. “As I said, sir, I don’t require any assistance—”

Alfred froze.

The person lingering near the wall stumbled back against the wall, and then stayed there.

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. He was dead. Quite dead.

Too tall. And...he seemed so frightened. Jason had never been frightened of Alfred. Surely, Alfred was mistaken.

“Jason?” he whispered, anyway. “My dear child…”

The boy looked up at him, and something seemed to spark in his eyes. His lips moved, forming the letter _a_.

“Ey, you’re all done after all.” The man in the hoodie had returned. He told Jason, “We don’t need you after all. You run home.”

The boy shuddered, tearing his gaze away from Alfred. He hunched over.

“Move, ya jag,” the man in the hoodie said, sharply.

Jason started to walk away. He looked back at Alfred. Perhaps it was only wishful thinking, but Alfred thought the boy looked forlorn.

“Wait,” Alfred said. “Perhaps I need some assistance after all. Have him stay.”

“Yeah?”

“In case the engine doesn’t start after all,” he said. “I’ll pay. In advance.” He blindly dug bills out of his wallet and thrust them at the man in the hoodie, who took them, eagerly.

Alfred walked briskly after the boy, while the man was counting the cash. He caught up with him, and place a light hand on his shoulder. The boy stopped. 

“Jason,” he said.

Jason shivered. He turned and bumped against Alfred’s shoulder, like a cat, and then shied away as if expecting to be hit.

“Jason,” Alfred said again, helplessly. “Oh, won’t you come with me, please? Before that man comes back?”

Jason made an awful, frightened noise.

“If you won’t come now, I’ll call your father,” Alfred said softly. “We won’t lose you again. I promise you, Jason. Now or later, we’ll bring you home.”

Jason suddenly thrust out his hand, and Alfred took it.

He tried not to drag Jason back to the car, just not to be too obvious about it, but when he had the passenger door open, and Jason loaded halfway into the seat, the man in the hoodie started towards them.

“What the fuck you doin’—”

Alfred slammed the passenger door shut and darted around to the driver’s side. And thank the good Lord, he had fixed the engine, and it started, smooth as silk. He floored the engine, and the man in the hoodie was left behind, running and grasping at the boot of the car.

He sighed in relief, and looked over at his passenger.

Jason was alternating silently mouthing and quietly vocalizing nonsense. He seemed terribly frustrated, but not upset at where he was, or worried about where he was going.

It took the whole trip back to the Manor, Alfred having parked in the garage and wondered what in the hell exactly he was going to say to Bruce about this, before Jason reached over, grabbed Alfred’s hand, and said, _“Alfie”_.

Alfred closed his eyes, and thanked God.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:  
> anonymous asked:  
> I wish you would write a fic where… either Alfred or Dick finds Jason while he is wandering the streets of Gotham after escaping from his grave, by sheer accident. ... ... ... Make us cry :)
> 
> I hope I did.


End file.
